The Black Arm
by Pulp Eater
Summary: A little girl named Kerri lives in Varrock. To her and many others, it is the greatest city in all of Runescape. But Varrock has a darker side. What will happen when a mysterious stranger from that darker side pays Kerri a visit?


There once was a city called Varrock. It was the capital of a great and expansive kingdom. Everyone in Runescape had heard of the mighty metropolis. From savage tribesmen lurking in the deepest jungles of Karamja to pirates weeping over spilled rum in the mysterious, misty waters of the East, few men passed a day without hearing the tales of knights and ladies parading in the finest apparel down boulevards crowded with bawdy minstrels and merchants peddling gleaming jewels and severed heads alike on the same silken cushion, or the dark alleys where secret duals were fought between gentlemen with flashing silver swords. There was always adventure to be had, beer and wine flowing, treachery afoot, danger around every corner, scandal brewing, and friends to be made and lost with the rise and fall of each new day's sun.

The Varockians were immensely proud of their city. The capital swelled each day with floods of new immigrants, and all was alive and thriving. It overflowed its boundaries and crumbled like an anthill, but always picked itself back up and became larger and greater than before. And one child in particular was enjoying the city in its glorious splendor. Her name was Kerri, the daughter of one of the city's most powerful and influential merchants. She was raised in a luxurious residence near the King's castle, and rarely left her house without the protection and supervision of a servant. Still she loved her city, and listened with rapture whenever anyone called on her father and exchanged the latest gossip. They would all laugh about the latest fashions, or Sir Prysin's latest foray into the sewers, which were haunted by the undead.

Kerri would read books on magic, which she was very interested in learning, as well as herblore, cooking, or history. She was friends with the King's librarian Reldo, who occasionally served her as a personal tutor. But her father taught her most of what she knew. Kerri was his only child, and he loved her more than anything else. He showed her the correct way to grip a dagger, how to dance and sing, and spent hours with her on the roof edifying her as to the names of the stars and constellations, or sometimes just sitting together and watching their city. He held her hand when they walked through the streets and introduced her to all his colleagues. He turned pale with worry every time she fell ill, tossing and turning in his bed late into the morning hours and struggling against the urge to see her once more and make sure she had everything she needed.

To live in the greatest city in Runescape, with the guidance and support of her beloved father, was a blessing not lost upon Kerri. She prayed to Saradomin every night to protect her father, and to watch over her majestic city. And her prayers were always answered.

By the time Kerri was 12, she was an expert with her dagger and could knock over her father with her wind spells. With a twitch of her finger, she might plant spring flowers or beckon a cooling breeze through the window into a stiflingly hot room. Every night she grew more and more powerful off a steady diet of runes and spell books. She thought herself easily a match for any common swordsman.

One night she sitting by the window, absent-mindedly poring over an old tome while the calm summer breeze blew gently past her window. After a little while she glanced at the street below and spotted a lone man walking the deserted street. He wore an unusual combination of monk robes and long sword. His top was shaved in the monk fashion. He approached her house and to her surprise strode confidently through the small front garden to her front door. Thinking the servants asleep, she rose and left to arouse one.

Downstairs however, she heard Beryl still washing the dishes. The man's knocking disrupted the soft tinkling of the plates. Kerri slyly leaned down and peered into the dimly lit vestibule as Beryl rushed out from the kitchen. Beryl was one of Kerri's favorite servants and knew a bit of magic herself, although mostly no more than how to light the fire under a pot. She was usually the servant who supervised Kerri on her walks through the city, and had been a kind, motherly influence in Kerri's life. Beryl advanced on the door and opened the door shutter and gazed through at the visitor.

There was heard a dull 'spulch' sound and the shining blade could be seen protruding from the back of Beryl's head. The sword was withdrawn just as quickly as it had been thrust, and Beryl's inert corpse hit the ground like a sack of beef. Kerri felt her knees give out from under her, and she collapsed on the stairs just as the door was blasted off its hinges. It splintered as if it had been hit by a cannon ball, and the wooden shards lodged themselves into the walls. Kerri was dully aware of thudding footsteps behind her, of her father lifting her off the stairs, giving her a quick, terrified look, and darting down the stairs to confront the intruder.

Kerri never saw her father and the remaining servants murdered. But she saw the shadows, and heard their last moments. Their struggling screams seemed more like the pitiful wails of the deer caught by a panther, having its flesh ripped apart by a hungry and ruthless predator, than the valiant battle cries of the knights as they sparred outside the King's library. They were the squeals of pigs slaughtered and gutted, the last screeches of the caught bird before its neck is snapped without remorse. There was all this, and then silence.

She heard the footsteps approaching, but didn't look up. The robes brushed the wooden floor, and the boots, caked in blood and bits of flesh, made squelching sounds as they left red footprints up the stairs. She felt his heavy breathing disturb the air, and a strong hand gripped her chin and yanked her face around. The intruder wore a mask, a pale white mask with beady black eye slits and full scarlet lips. Blood speckled the cheeks like freckles. The mask studied her for a few seconds, apparently coming to a decision. His other hand slowly reached around her face and she instinctively flinched. The intruder chuckled, than quickly rapped her with both hands on either temple. The world fell into darkness, and Kerri was no more.


End file.
